


Scene

by lollki



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Voyeurism, a lot of horniness, i'm a bad writer but at least i provide, idk what to tell you they fuck, misuse of a perfectly good shirt toward the end, ok we got, oof this is bad, whole lot of cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 06:29:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20774069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lollki/pseuds/lollki
Summary: In the end, Shelton always gets what he wants.





	Scene

**Author's Note:**

> yeah, it's horny. Proceed with caution.  
(some parts are rushed but i can't be fucked to change that)

It’s orange against his eyelids when Eugene rouses, with the late noon sun painting his face uncomfortably bright and hot.  
He squints against it and subconsciously reaches toward the space next to him, only to find it suspiciously empty. The hardwood of Shelton's apartment feels cool against his bare feet as he gets dressed to find him and doesn’t take long to be met with quite the exciting view. 

He’s sprawled semi-nude down to his briefs on the old, worn couch looking all the more boyish and delectable for it. Eugene's eyes follow every dip and shadow of Shelton's form where he lounges on it, reminiscent of a lion in the white-hot sun of the savannah. His heartbeat quickens, a metronome thrum within his chest as he watches the delicately placed hand on Shelton's stomach fall down lower, against his clothed erection. Sees him shift, arch his back and his head fall limp against the armrest, throat growing that little bit longer and the tip of his tongue, a flushed red phenomenon, darts through his lips and gets caught between his teeth as his mouth tugs into a smile.

„Good Morning.“ Shelton greets in a throaty timbre, makes a point of never breaking eye-contact when he gets like this, turns into a provocative little thing that holds Eugene's resolve in his palm like a small bird. A fluttery, deliberately placed breath breaks through the air in time with a rhythmic motion of his palm - Eugene gulps. 

That’s how fast the morning takes a turn; Eugene knows it’s on purpose and wonders how long he’d been up, teasing himself, waiting on him. The idea of coffee and breakfast is instantaneously replaced as he’s stood dumbstruck on the other side of the room. Shelton tilts his head and smiles sweetly, squinting his eyes, large, green, alive.

„What, you just gon' stand there n' watch me?“, Shelton rasps and that pearly-white makes Eugene's stomach drop with dark, hot arousal, the fact it’s so impish and teasing.

„You know what? I just might.“

„Suit yourself.“

What a criminally pretty thing, that long-limbed, bronzed boy, Eugene thinks as Shelton goes back to work on himself and Eugene places himself into the voyeuristic limbo, a participant but not quite. 

He slides his hand over the inner side of his thigh, under Eugene's watchful eye, a sweet caramel-cream complexion in its path from where the skin remains somewhat lighter than the rest of him that's darkened by the zenith Louisiana sun.

„I think maybe you should learn to be patient.“ Eugene's voice comes out surprisingly solid and it makes Shelton laugh. He tilts his head and lowers his gaze, watching the subject of his desires through a fan of dark lashes.

„...or maybe I don't and you can just fuck me like I know you want to.“

Eugene makes a point of standing up straight and drawing a stool across the floor, seating himself, legs spread solid like he has all the time in the world. He crosses his arms and leans back, the gesture a silent challenge. Shelton quietly observes him, darting his eyes from Eugene's eyes to his lips to where he's sitting on the other side of the coffee table. A short flicker moves between his legs but Eugene leans forward, bringing his face into view, and obscuring the part of his thighs.

Shelton rolls his eyes and grins slily at that brazen gesture of Eugene's, amused at how he's trying to beat him at his own game. Like a staring contest, see who breaks first.

Unsure whether he's annoyed or thoroughly pleased Shelton rewards Eugene's avid participation with a flat palm to his erection, a little show. His hips roll against his hand, arch his spine off the cushion just to fall back with a quiet thud.

„Come on, cher.“ he tuts much too sweetly and the animal edge of his incisor peeks at the last syllable. „I  _ want _ you.“

Despite how turned-on he is by Shelton saying that, like that, breathy, Eugene remains stubbornly in his spot. 

The sight is too precious, the knot in Shelton's eyebrows, the way his mouth parts on a serene smile and his eyes flutter shut when he rubs in heavy circles, Eugene is no stranger to that appeal. He's well-versed in the minutiae of Merriell's seductive endeavors, the way he expertly pulls and tugs, at heartstrings and otherwise, the way he drops and raises his body, manipulates until Eugene will do, just do.

He gives a sound between shuddery exhale and moan when he dips his hand into his briefs to grasp hold of himself and opens his eyes to a hopelessly lovestruck Eugene, quietly fighting this urge to close the distance and pull him into his lap, have him nude, bare-skinned, pulled flush against himself, have him kiss and moan against lips that are worried from biting them too much.

Shelton can read the play of different scenes from his eyes as Eugene watches, because by now he knows him so well, knows what it looks like when Eugene is on the verge of becoming a more dominant, assertive creature. In a surge of curious need he breathes:

„Tell me what you want to do to me.“

Eugene's unsure if that were complying too much but his mind's eye is overflowing with ideas, each more appealing than the next, each fighting to tumble out his mouth first.

He keeps his lips in a tight line.

„Ok, I'll go then.“

Eugene's intent follows Shelton's hand disappear under his briefs, the shifting curve indicating a tug, two tugs.

„Wanna feel you in my mouth, first, all hard and hot.“

Merriel emphasizes his words by looping his index finger around the spandex of his underwear and pulling some two inches; enough to allow a glimpse but not enough to be completely bared.

The tip of his erection is soft and pink and glazed and rests against his taut stomach, where his right hand spins circles and catches onto it.

„Have you fuck me with your fingers...“

Instead of moving his hands, he rolls his hips, knowing how much more appealing that would look to Eugene, posing and angling his body like the cover of a glossy magazine, starring lead of Eugene's wet dreams.

His nimble, adept form curves into the couch further, sliding down some, and catching the light of the afternoon sun on the expanse of his bronzed chest, narrow waist, stomach. He's thrusting up into his hand and his head rolls to the side, weakly, genuine arousal now replacing the playful temptation in his features. It drives through him like a bullet, when Eugene sees the flush rising to his tawny cheeks, his red lips parted on the whisper of a curse.

„Have you fuck me real slow first and work me over, and-“

„Shit.“ Eugene's resolve breaks and he stumbles over, hoisting Shelton up by the waist and pushing his own against an already expectant mouth where Shelton's victorious laugh trickles through him. He immediately shifts to accommodate Eugene on the small space and straightens his back out, draws his naked chest close against Eugene's clothed one. The squeeze is a tight fit and the heat is making Eugene semi-delirious as he encloses Shelton's waist between both sinewy forearms and pulls him up into his lap with practiced ease. The hard bulge against the back of Shelton's thigh provokes him to swallow heavily and he lets one hand drop to Eugene's hip, the other on his shoulder for leverage.

„Fucking tease.“, Eugene mumbles and that satisfies Shelton infinitely. He laughs this throaty thing and feels a hot, wet mouth suck right below the dip of his adam's apple, quickly turning the sound into a moan. In time with this assault, Eugene thrusts up and rubs his cock against Shelton's ass through some layers of clothing, which must have caught him off guard because there's a whine that's so needy and so unlike the previously self-assured demeanor that it zips right through Eugene, all the way down his spine to his cock. He repeats the motion, making sure to angle properly this time and Merriell's head falls forward against Eugene's shoulder, his hand into the back of his neck in response, trying to meet the push of his groin, mirror the movement. His eyebrows tighten into a frown and he tilts Eugene's head to face him, kisses him open-mouthed and steaming-hot through another couple of grinding thrusts.

„ _ Fuck _ , just like that.“ Shelton rasps weakly in between the lazy sucks on his tongue, bites of his lips. He moves his mouth against the jut of Eugene's cheekbone, kisses his temple, the hesitant dip where his ear starts. „Eugene, I swear to god-“, he whispers hotly where his lips meet Eugene's ear and course through his senses, immediate. His breath hitches in time with a shift of Eugene's hips.

„Please.“ Sucks sharply at his jaw.

„Please what, baby?“

The frustrated heat overrides Shelton's senses and instead of articulating he puts his hands to work, detangling shirt from jeans, jeans from belt. The mild, quiet jangle of Eugene's belt buckle sounds clear and bell-like amidst their orchestra of breaths, one slip, tug, second slip, then some frantic pulling. Eugene's skin is so impossibly white, Shelton thinks, he can see the outline of his own hand like a shadow on this arctic thigh; Eugene is the very start of spring to Shelton's dark, hot summer.

Eugene jolts when he feels this familiar palm on his erection, latching hungrily onto him, his arousal tended to and stirred simultaneously. Shelton drops his head so it rests under Eugene's chin, the soft curve of his golden cheek attacked with a last peck before it slides past, before the soft gasp is muffled and Eugene feels a tight pressure against his throat where Shelton needily nestles against it. He pulls once, slides the last bit of clothing off, supports himself by one arm on the back of the couch and starts stroking with a pleasant tilt to this motion. Eugene falls back and enjoys for a moment, letting his eyes fall shut and a groan course through him. Maybe he should be more concerned about how the curtains aren't drawn closed but even the distant, voyeuristic idea of this scene playing out from an outside angle excites him. He sees it in an almost cinematic sequence. Shelton's head of coal-black curls only visible from behind, his own face featuring in the focal point. Then again he prefers looking at it from where he's seated – front row tickets to this sensual fantasy.

Eugene grips a large hand into Shelton's thigh, leaving that white-hot outline of his thumb as he moves up and behind, that turns red within a moment, then back to brown. He slides further up and squeezes tightly at his ass, hums pleased. Shelton's eyes immediately shoot up to meet his own and he repeats while the other remains lodged securely against his waist. There's that challenge again but it's weaker this time, a meager attempt at hiding how badly he wants this, how his large eyes are almost completely darkened by the tar-black of his pupils. Eugene inhales sharply and gathers the body around himself like liquid. They shift so that the length of Merriell's narrow frame sprawls out on the couch underneath them, the suggestion of a lopsided smile on an otherwise impatient expression.

„You want me to..?“

„God. Gene. Are you thick.“

He decides to not push it any further, tugs the last bit of remaining clothes off of him, forgets them in the corner with his own underwear. He's thickly aroused and even though it doesn't surprise him with this malleable, pliant creature underneath him, he reminisces briefly on how quickly it always happens – a heavensend and a frustration at once.

While Eugene shortly loses track of Shelton's efforts, the other begins to work on himself, a tub of vaseline mysteriously produced from somewhere near the couch. A pang of possessiveness overcomes him when he realizes Shelton planned for this, was a step ahead of him by knowing he wouldn't be able to resist. In an effort to gain back control he swats at Shelton's hand, tugs it away from where it's lodged between his legs and firmly pins it to the armrest with his left, while he dips the fingers of his other hand, now coated and slick, to the opening in front of him. With a groan, Shelton throws his leg over Eugene's shoulder, who assists by digging his hand into the softness of his thigh, simultaneously pushing two fingers in at once and crooking and pulling against a knot he finds easily. Shelton keens, thrashes his torso the side, his head following suit, and twists his face into something between rapture and a frown; mouth agape in the shadow of a smile, eyes clenched shut and a tight knot in his brows. Eugene's fingers move rhythmically, fluidly and he wants to bury himself so deep into this mess of a boy before him that he's near-hurting with urgency.

„Look at me, baby.“

The press of his fingers is merciless and it takes Shelton a moment to obey, the wash of his pleasure incapacitating him beyond belief. When he does look, it's breathtaking. His small, lithe body is flushed hot even under his beautiful bronze tan. He squirms and shifts, pressing Eugene closer with his propped up leg at every thrust of his fingers. His sea-green eyes convey complete subjection, convey how Eugene could take him anytime, in any way he pleases.

He pushes a moan through his gorgeous throat when Eugene goes deep enough, almost looking away, head rolling back so far his eyelids dip to the very edge of closing. Eugene halts and takes a moment to lean forward, tempted by the cherry red of Shelton's mouth and he kisses him with his fingers still inside, slowly resolving to a less hurried, less impatient push. The way Shelton is almost lax in his movements, nimble and lazy from the stimulation makes Eugene want to hoist him up in his lap, fuck him right into the cushion. Almost dazedly he lets Eugene suck on every bit of his mouth, pull his kiss-tender lips taut between his own when he unexpectedly laughs a raspy little thing, sounding like disbelief.

„I'm so fucking  _ hard _ , Gene.“

A grin spreads on his pretty, boyish face, his teeth digging into his lower lip, and some of that provocative nonchalance is back that never stops short of moving Eugene into action. With the smallest noise of displeasure from underneath him, Eugene pulls his fingers out and haphazardly wipes them over the side of the couch before he grabs Shelton's hips and pulls him down the couch so that his head falls off the armrest against the seat. Shelton's devilish grin widens and it's infuriating how he looks so blissed-out yet so challenging at once. His leg tightens over Eugene's shoulder which he takes it as a signal to finally align his straining cock with the wet-hot opening in front of him and he bottoms out in one, smooth movement that has him almost seeing stars.

The blissful first thrust has Shelton panting, has him shift his hips to settle on the heavy fullness of Eugene's cock inside him and he throws his arms over his head, grabbing onto the armrest on each side. He meets the second thrust with an easy roll of his hips and moans while his head falls back and his eyes screw shut tightly.

„Fuck, you're so good.“ he mumbles to himself rather than Eugene who takes the pretty arch of his spine as an opportunity to slide his hands under him, thumbs pressing into the narrow dip of his waist.

„Gene, you feel so fucking  _ good _ .“

It's almost like he's not all present anymore, so filled, so pleased, so dazed. Eugene traces the curve of his smile with his thumb, then presses it against that full pout, fascinated by how soft it is, how easily it gives way. He pulls his hips back, his cock sliding out almost all the way, then pushes back in, pleased at the loaded sigh he hears. The pace he picks up is steady, at the end of each thrust a breathy moan and the squeaking of the springs holding their weight. Eugene angles deliberately each time, fully immersed in deep, heavy thrusts and Shelton whines, squirms. He raises his hand to cover his eyes but Eugene picks it off him, prompting him to look up at his face when he drives into him again especially deep and watches his boyish features contort into pleasure so good it's painful.

It doesn’t take long to lose himself in it, picking up speed with his hands pressing Shelton down by the waist. He’s completely incoherent now, with the slide of Eugene’s cock really giving him what he needs, hard and merciless. As Eugene fucks him, Shelton’s head bobs against the armrest with each thrust, a cut moan at each peak of them. He’s impossibly twisted now; thighs pulled flush against Eugene’s chest, ankles crossed sweetly behind his head as he’s bouncing back into the slight give of the couch - and Eugene can tell he’s getting close from the hand that’s subtly creeping closer to his navel, from the way his moans are getting that desperate tinge.

“Shit, I’m-” before he can say it, Eugene grabs at his cock and tugs and all he needs is two strokes before he spills in Eugene’s hand, spine arching off the couch. He’s a pretty mess, eyes glazed over, cheeks, nose, lips all red and flushed. When his breathing slows, Eugene takes that as his cue to start back up and it's an embarrassingly short ordeal, bursting minutes later as he’s sheathed deep inside, dragging an oversensitive cry from Shelton when he does.

It’s quiet, after, the only sound permeating the room their erratic breathing as they each come down. Shelton laughs when he’s clearer-headed and he doesn’t stop, messily wiping a tear from the corner of his eye.

“ _ Oh… _ ” he sighs and grins up at Eugene who’s still catching his breath, the sheen of sweat drying tacky at the hair of his nape. 

“Oh, that was good.”

“Yeah.” Eugene says, replying to the grin with one of his own. “The couch is too small though, for next time.”

Shelton hums affirmatively, slow, and watches Eugene bend back, looking for something to clean off with. He finds his shirt, dragging it sloppily across himself before Shelton takes it from him to clean up, too. It's nice looking at him like that, Eugene thinks, mouth pulled into a sharp point as he rubs at his stomach. It's silly that that's what reminds him but he truly is so lucky.

“D’you want a smoke?” Shelton offers after he lights one for himself. 

“Let’s share.”

He stretches out so far over the armrest that his head falls back against it, curls crowding around the top of his head where they’re longer, and his joints pop before he falls again, sighs, a deeply sated, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his eyes. He’s muse-like and soft in his beauty and Eugene leans forward to kiss him just because he can’t  _ not _ , the magnetic pull of his lips too hard to resist. It’s slow and tender and he revels in the fact that Shelton kisses him back so readily, his lips pressing insistently against his own with the mild scratch of some upper-lip stubble, while the unoccupied hand finds his cheek, his neck.

“You’re sweet.” Shelton laughs when they part, takes another drag off his smoke before handing it to Eugene who takes it gratefully and huffs.

“Yeah, hold onto that.”

When Eugene picks the filthy shirt off Shelton’s belly he frowns, mildly amused.

“S’pose that makes today laundry day, huh.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> considering the fact i'm so fucking repressed, it's a miracle this has found its way into the public. 
> 
> i would like to take the opportunity to apologize to god and my parents.


End file.
